


Shadow of the Sun

by Merrinpippy



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: And how much it sucks according to Anakin, Angst with a Happy Ending, Changes by David Bowie playing on repeat in the background, Fluff, Force Ghost Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Code, Last fic of 2017 let's go, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Past Leia Organa/Han Solo, but there's no hard feelings don't worry, let luke say fuck 2k18
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-23 20:08:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13197633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merrinpippy/pseuds/Merrinpippy
Summary: Luke should have seen it coming; the issue had been growing over them like a shadow ever since Darth Vader died and Luke truly became the last Jedi, with all the abilities and limitations Yoda had passed on to him like a torch.With all of that, Han still manages to make him feel so insignificant and small with just three words.“You’ve changed, kid.”





	Shadow of the Sun

**Author's Note:**

> Alt title: Luke Learns How To Use Metaphorical Emojis
> 
> I started writing this in December 2015. It's amusing how well some lines still hold up after TLJ, though I have of course edited the fic since then. That being said, there are no spoilers for TLJ if anyone's worried about that sorta thing.

It’s right after a battle that Han brings it up, staring at Luke with a mixture of awe, fear, and something Luke can’t name. In truth, Luke should have seen it coming; the issue had been growing over them like a shadow ever since Darth Vader died and Luke truly became the last Jedi, with all the abilities and limitations Yoda had passed on to him like a torch.

With all of that, Han still manages to make him feel so insignificant and small with just three words.

“You’ve changed, kid.”

Luke looks around them. The now eerily silent Imperial Star Destroyer they’re standing in is coated with blood. The walls and floor are littered with missed blaster shots and gaping wounds in the structure where Luke had cut through with his saber. The corpses of Stormtroopers and those still pointlessly loyal to the Empire are strewn haphazardly on almost every surface. Luke’s gaze falls from the too-familiar bright red glazing of a won battle to his hand- to his lightsaber, still hot from the fight. How many of these corpses are his doing? He couldn’t count them. In the battle, he barely batted an eye, barely gave a glance as he fought. Now, he can barely tear his eyes away.

Forcing himself to look up at Han, Luke can’t bring himself to disagree. “I’m not a kid anymore,” he supplies, his voice too monotonous even for his own liking. Han looks away, but Luke doesn’t miss the flash of hurt on his face. “Han…”

“Don’t, Luke. It’s not important.”

Their comlinks beep simultaneously. Leia’s voice comes through, congratulating them on their victory and requesting, in her warm way, that they return to the Falcon.

Han leaves first and Luke follows behind. He can’t help but notice that although they are so physically close, Han has never been so far out of reach. “Han,” he tries again, though he’s not even sure what he’d say.

Han doesn’t even look at him. He probably can’t. Getting Han to speak about how he feels (if he’s not complaining or lusting after someone else) is like getting blood out of sand- and Luke would know on both counts.

“After Jabba’s palace, I thought it was just me,” Han says, voice guarded. “You seemed almost normal, but- not. You were calmer. Colder.”

“I had trained and practised meticulously to save you.” But Luke knows that’s not the point. If it was, the issue would have been resolved by now.

“I expected something different, so in a way, it’s my fault,” Han continues as if Luke hadn’t said anything. “I thought you’d have… emotion.”

“I do have emotion,” Luke says defensively.

Luke can almost see Han’s frown even when he’s turned away. “Then what are you feeling right now?”

“Tired. Frustrated.  _ Confused, _ ” Luke emphasises. 

Han shakes his head, frustrated as well. It’s not the answer he was looking for. “Damn it, kid! You just… you don’t talk to us anymore. When something’s wrong- and we can tell- you don’t talk to us! You used to. You used to, to care.”

Luke wishes Han would look at him. “I do care,” he says, but regrets it immediately after. Now, Han does turn on him, grabbing Luke’s shoulders and shaking him. Luke flinches.

“Then why? Why’re you so cold now? You go through- through everything- like we’re all just robots. There are times when I think I got the old you back but then you just shut down again. I want you to tell me what’s wrong! It’s been months,” Han growls- a mechanism to hide the naked emotion in his eyes. “Months since Endor and you haven’t told me. About your hand, about you and Leia, about what happened on that Death Star. Not even what happened on Bespin.”

“So that’s what you’re upset about? That I haven’t told you everything that’s happened to me?” Luke takes a second to note that Han noticed his hand. Han’s head lowers.

“You haven’t told me _ anything.” _ Han laughs humourlessly.  _ “Leia  _ told me that you’re twins.”

“That’s fair enough. She’s your girlfriend, isn’t she?”

Han lets go of him suddenly like he’s been burned, and swiftly continues making his way to the docking bay of this Imperial ship, where everyone else will be waiting to depart on Leia’s orders. Luke almost trips in his effort to keep up. “If you’d been talking to us instead of holed up in your room all the time, you’d know that me and Leia split.”

Luke is silent. Deep, hot shame flushes through him; he should be sorry for them, but instead there’s relief. He has a chance with Han-! But, obviously, that isn’t the case. Luke once again is reminded why the Jedi close off their emotions, why they don’t form attachments. Even without the code restricting him, it’s clear that Han could never want him. But he does have emotions, regardless of what Han is accusing, and he mourns for Han and Leia’s happiness if nothing else before forcing those emotions out of mind and out of sight. “I’m sorry,” he settles for, and it’s mostly true.

“I’m not.” Han’s voice is softer now, unnoticeable to those who don’t know him, but Luke very much does. “It wouldn’t be fair to her if we carried on, while I…” He shakes his head. “Look, that’s not the point.”

A disappointing thought occurs. “Did Leia tell you about my hand?”

“Were  _ you _ ever going to tell me?” Han returns. Luke doesn’t have an answer for him that he’d be willing to voice aloud; he’d wanted Han not to notice. Not to mock. Not to pity. Not to… view him as damaged goods, no matter how irrational the fear is. And Han didn’t even notice for himself; he sees Luke enough to know he’s changed, but not the details, and not enough to know how much of him hasn’t.

They reach the docking bay in silence. Rebels swarm them immediately: the hands pull and shove them apart, careless in their cheer and celebration, trying to get them to join in. Hot breath and loud voices crowd him, bright orange and too many bodies obscure his view. Yet mercifully, Han is not out of his sight… or perhaps not so mercifully. Han doesn’t spare a glance for Luke, but Luke’s expecting that now. He meets Leia’s eyes over the crowd and she gives him a knowing look.

A strange bitterness fills him at Han’s blatant dismissal of him, and how unsurprising it is to Leia that she barely bats an eye at it, and Luke is nearly overwhelmed by the need to meditate before it gets too far. He knows he’s only proving Han’s point, but nonetheless Luke retreats to the Falcon and doesn’t stop moving until he reaches the crew quarters. From here, the noise from outside is just a distant echo. His room is like relief, but the realisation that the bitterness is still there is the bucket of cold water he really didn’t need or want. He can’t go dark, he can’t, which means no negative emotions, but… if he can’t utilise positive emotions… well, inner peace and objectivity is harder to maintain than he’d expected.

Even now, he wishes it could be as simple as flicking a switch and returning to the farm boy that Han had formed a friendship with. But that would be wrong. It wasn’t the Jedi way. He’d been trying so hard since Bespin to be truer to what Yoda had told him of the Jedi; perhaps if he’d been more controlled, had actually listened to Yoda, Han wouldn’t have been tortured and frozen in carbonite.

Yoda had said things like ‘There is no emotion, there is peace,’ and ‘There is no passion, there is serenity.’ Luke was trying, is trying, but he just didn’t expect it to be so… draining. So isolating. Han’s right, he has changed, and has known this for some time. He’d just thought it was for the better; apparently he’d been wrong.

… Or maybe he was right- too right. Luke swallows uncomfortably, changing his garments to something comfortable and unbloodied in preparation for some much-needed meditation. As much as it pains him, agonises a place deep within his heart at the very prospect, maybe he will have to follow this path until its conclusion, and cut his emotional ties to Han and Leia for the sake of rebuilding the Jedi order from the ground.

He hopes it won’t come to that.

* * *

 

Luke doesn’t know how long he stays there, motionless, until he is interrupted.

“Luke.”

Even though he’s never heard the voice before, he knows who it belongs to immediately. For a moment, he’s paralysed in shock, but the moment passes, and Luke smiles. “Father?”

He turns, and there he is, the young man from the celebrations on Endor. Just as he was then, he’s a translucent bright blue, but he’s there all the same.

“I didn’t think I’d get to see you again after Endor,” Luke says. “I thought you’d left.”

Anakin smiles sheepishly. “I was considering it. Y’know, leaving with Obi-wan. But I thought I’d stay just for a while, at least to see the world from a different lens. To see you from a different lens.”

“Do you like what you see?” Luke asks with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Anakin stares at him for a while, seemingly taking him in with an unreadable expression on his face. “You’re different,” he remarks curiously.

Luke sighs and collapses on his bed, allowing himself this lapse of control in the presence of his dead redeemed father. “I wish people would stop saying that!”

Anakin sits on the bed opposite him. “Look at that, you’re getting better already.”

“What?”

“Emotion, desire- you wish people would stop. It’s good.” Anakin nods. “Keep doing that.”

Luke groans. Never mind. Of course his father, the former Sith, would think that. “Yoda said that Jedi are supposed to… suppress emotion.”

“There’s a difference between suppress and control,” Anakin explains gently. “Suppressing your feelings, hiding your feelings… pretending you’re not scared when you are for a little too long, not relying on anyone else- it’s unhealthy.”

“It’s the Jedi way, isn’t it?”

“The Jedi fell. You’re the only one left.”

Luke frowns. “What has that got to do with anything? Emotion didn’t have any effect on their deaths, they only died because-”

“Because of me.” Anakin doesn’t shy away from this truth, looking Luke straight in the eye, as serene as anything.

“But that’s not… I mean, that doesn’t have anything to do with suppressed emotions, right?”

“Why do you think I became Darth Vader?”

Luke is silent. He searches for an answer, but the only answers he can think of disprove his point and agree with Anakin. And yet, Anakin’s good now, and he’s been acting peaceful and calm this entire time, which disproves his own point for him, doesn’t it?

Anakin waits until Luke’s entire focus is on him before he begins to speak. “I was scared. Manipulated, yes, but the darkness came from me. I was scared of losing Padme, and when I tried to reach out to someone- namely Yoda- he told me that attachments to people must be avoided, yada yada yada.” Anakin’s eyes unfocus and his face darkens for a moment, before he looks back to Luke and his expression clears. “And I couldn’t deal. I was offered an alternative, and I took it like the naïve child I was.

“It wasn’t my fear that failed me. That fear was healthy and well-founded. The problem was I could not accept it or validate it and therefore had no outlet for it, until I did… in the worst of ways. You don’t have to repress your emotions, Luke. You can control them. Fear, but do not let fear cloud your judgement. Love, but do not let love make your decisions for you. You have the chance to create a new Jedi order, a  _ better  _ order.” Anakin’s expression becomes sorrowful. “Or you can stay with the old ways and pray they do not betray you like they did me, and other Jedi before me.”

There’s truth to his father’s words, but now Luke’s own understanding is... well, a mess. He doesn’t want to ignore Yoda and his teachings for his own selfish desires, but it is so tempting to believe that he can have what he wants without consequences- to feel, to express, without it being wrong or disrupting his growth as a Jedi.

“I sense the conflict within you,” Anakin remarks with no small amount of irony.

Luke struggles to explain. “I just don’t want to say that I can do things or not do things according to the Jedi code, when I’ve moulded the Jedi code to suit me rather than the greater good.”

He expects his father to argue, but instead Anakin graces him with a proud smile, and for a moment the world around Luke grows brighter and warmer with it. “There is such good in you, son. I think if you truly are going against the greater good because of your own wishes, you’d know, and you wouldn’t be able live with the guilt of it. Reach out. Meditate. See what feels right to you.”

There’s an oddly comfortable silence between them as Luke does just that. He feels a bit like he’s grasping for straws at points, seemingly alone in the Force, but eventually he stops. Because there is no guilt, only a sense of impending freedom, should he choose to take it. Anakin’s right about him; he would feel guilty if he thought for a second that he was choosing the selfish path. Luke opens his eyes.

“You were right,” he breathes, and Anakin beams at him.

“It happens every so often,” Anakin says. “Make sure to tell Obi-Wan if you ever see him. I know I will.”

Luke laughs and shakes his head. It feels so… deceptively simple. 

Anakin leans forward, a maturity in his gaze that looks unnatural on his young form but could only come about from Anakin’s mottled past. “I haven’t been a good father to you or your sister- obviously. Understatement, I know. But if there is one piece of good advice I can give to you, it’s this; you are your own person, as is everyone else around you. Protect your friends, but don’t be possessive, or let paranoia rule you. While you want to protect the people you care about, ultimately it is their choice which path they lead and if their path leads to their destruction, that’s not on you. In other words: Don’t be an idiot like I was.” Anakin gives Luke a soft, self-deprecating smile.

“You’re really dishing out the wise words today, aren’t you?”

“I’ve been waiting to say it for a while.”

“I’m glad you did.”

Anakin’s form flickers as he stands and steps closer to Luke.

“Tell your sister I said hi,” he starts, but Luke cuts in, jumping to his feet.

“What? So soon? Please don’t leave me yet, father,” he entreats, aware of a slight whine in his voice but barely caring.

Anakin raises a hand, not quite touching Luke’s shoulder but giving the illusion that he could. “I must go for now. Maintaining this form is… more difficult than you’d expect. But believe me. I will never leave you,” he swears. His image flickers again and then fades away until Luke is once more alone.

Luke stays still for a moment, staring at the space where Anakin had been. However, the thought dawns upon him that, just as he’d done to his father, his father had done to him: he’d freed him.

Of course, everything else that Luke had intended for the order would remain more or less the same. Luke’s alright but he’s not good enough to create the Jedi order anew on his own. No, there’s only one thing he’ll be changing- or rather, reinterpreting. And speaking of which, Luke needs to find Han. Shouldn’t they be leaving, anyway?

A quick search of the Falcon using the Force relays that neither Han nor Chewie are on board. Sighing, he resigns himself to either looking for them, or stealing a ship to get back on his own if Han really won’t speak to him. He’ll have to speak to Han eventually, of course, and needs to know exactly what Han’s issue is (‘you’ve changed’? Honestly?) so he can work on fixing it. A healthy bit of optimism is what he needs right now.

He’s almost out of the Falcon when he bumps into Leia, quite literally. He’s about to laugh and apologise but the look on her face stops him in his tracks.

Her expression is stern, but there’s an underlying worry there that has alarm bells going off in Luke’s mind. “Leia? Is everything alright?”

Leia fixes him with a glare. “So this is where you’ve been? First I find you’ve had a particularly bad fight with Han-”

“I wouldn’t say  _ fight- _ ” Luke cuts in but Leia only speaks over him, increasing her speed as she goes.

“-And you hide yourself away and then Chewie tells me there’s been a blue light and raised voices coming from the crew quarters- but  _ Han _ has no idea where you are and is searching for you and looking genuinely, uncommonly worried, and-”

“Leia-”

“What have you been doing?!” She finally bursts.

“Um,” he says, eloquently. “I’ve been here the whole time. Dad says hi.”

Leia tilts her head forward in an expectant ‘and?’ motion.

Luke grimaces. “Apparently recently I haven’t been very good moral support.”

A beast of sceptical silence. “No kidding. Not the best time for it, is it? Well, I wasn’t even sure if you’d noticed, but you’ve been distant ever since you fought Vader. And it’s not like I don’t understand- or try to, at least- but we can’t help you if you don’t open up to us. We love you, Luke, albeit in… different ways-”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Luke stomps down on a flicker of hope. His conversation with Anakin had good results, but not  _ that _ good.

Leia shakes her head. “You’ll have to ask Han that. So… what, Vader just appeared after you helped trash a Star Destroyer and told you that you need to be better moral support?”

Luke scrunches his face up as he draws out a “Well yes…” and judging by Leia’s intense look he knows it’s the most emotion he’s allowed to show on his face for a long time. Too long a time. “But mainly,” Luke continues, “he told me that the Jedi suck. And to tell you hi.”

Leia almost looks disappointed. “So you’re… alright now? About the Jedi code and all?”

“Well, I… yes? Hang on, I’m not quite sure I catch your-”

“Go tell Han about it,” Leia cuts him off, not unkindly. “He’s been looking for you, waiting for you before he takes off, and I think there’s something he wants to talk to you about. I can wait for an explanation- and you  _ will  _ be explaining.” At Luke’s bemused look, he pushes him gently. “Go on, shoo!”

He kisses her on the cheek as he leaves. He owes her an explanation of course, but if Han actually wants to see him it’s not an opportunity he’s likely to pass up. Leia probably knows this about him- they’ve been inadvertently learning things like this about each other through the Force for the past few months. It’s a wonder he hadn’t known Leia and Han weren’t dating anymore.

“We’re going to have a talk about this later,” Leia calls after him with no room for argument.

“Definitely,” he calls back.

If he’s going to say anything to Han about… well, about  _ that _ , it has to be now, while Han’s angry with him and emotions are running high. Any other time it would feel like a betrayal to both Han and himself, potentially ruining their friendship, but when Han’s angry with him… especially now that he knows he doesn’t have to be uptight and controlled…

The cowardly part of Luke supplies that if Han rejects him, he can always chalk it up to confusion in the face of his newfound freedom. But Han’s rejection is a fear he can’t allow himself to acknowledge just yet, lest he crumble first. He’s sure his father would forgive him this one, temporary suppression of emotion, one last time.

* * *

 

Though he now feels Chewie’s presence on the Falcon, he still does not feel Han’s. The pilots outside are far too packed in for Luke to single Han out from them using the Force alone, so he exits the Falcon in search. 

The deafening engine roars nearly cause Luke to cover his ears when he opens the doors. Immediately after he steps out, a gust of wind knocks into him, and though his balance is good enough for it not to make him fall, he skids back against the Falcon. Blinking, he looks around; everyone’s departing this graveyard of a Star Destroyer, as he expected, and though of course there’s no wind in space, that’s not the case inside the force field, what with all of the ships in flight. 

Still, Luke has no reason to be worried, as the majority of the ships in the bay haven’t left yet and he  _ knows  _ that the Falcon hasn’t left without him. Yet. But who knows where Han could be? Luke might as well wait inside the Falcon for him, he considers with a grimace, even though according to Leia Han’s looking for him...

A familiar face catches Luke’s eye as the man’s getting into his X-wing halfway across the bay, and Luke speeds over to get his attention. He ducks under the wing of a Y-wing taking off and propels himself forward with the Force in order to be seen before the pilot takes off.

“Hey Wedge!” He yells above the cacophony of a hundred engines. “Have you seen Han?”

“Sorry Luke!” Wedge yells back, peering down at him over the side of his ship. “I’d check the Falcon if I were you. Otherwise I’d find a spare ship to get back to the base in, quickly.”

For the love of- guess he’d have to wait after all. So much for doing this while riding on his freedom high. 

Luke shakes his head, aware of Wedge’s eyes still on him. “See ya!” He waves off his friend before returning to the Falcon (without the use of the Force this time), fully intending of holing himself up in his room to prepare himself.

Except as he re-boards the Falcon, he only barely stops himself from colliding with Han himself, and his confidence turns into butterflies in his stomach. He almost can’t bring himself to look up at Han’s face now he’s here, but he does.

None of the anger that was there before is there now. It’s been replaced by- relief? Regret?

“Hey, kid,” Han says in a strange tone Luke hasn’t heard from him before. “I’ve been looking all over for you! Come on, we need to talk.”

“Han-”

Han cuts him off. “Let me take off and then we can speak in private.”

Luke blinks. “You’re really taking me with you?”  

A ghost of something passes across Han’s face as he turns away- not wanting Luke to see him or not wanting to see Luke, Luke can’t tell. Han heads to the cockpit where Chewie is already waiting for him. Artoo and Threepio aren’t on the ship, Luke knows, and neither is Leia, but Han and Chewie don’t seem to be paying this any thought. Luke pauses in the doorway.

“You’re leaving  _ now?  _ But what about-”

“Leia has a new mission for us, we’re not heading back to the base just yet.” Han interrupts. Chewie looks between them and, for once, says nothing as Han starts flipping switches. “Said you were heading my way, so I thought you knew. Guess not, huh? Kid, where’ve you been?”

Luke sits down uncomfortably as the Falcon rumbles awake. This isn’t what he’d expected at all. “I’ve been right here,” he says, giving Chewie a curious look. He’d told Leia but not Han about the weird lights and voices?

Han scoffs. “Great. I’ve been looking all over for you, and you didn’t even go anywhere? Holed up in your quarters again, I bet. Jeez.”

“You were angry at me! You were avoiding me! You think I was gonna stick around after you made it clear you didn’t want me there?”

“God, that’s not-!” Han hisses out a frustrated breath. “Damn it, kid, can we not do this here?”

Anger bubbles up inside Luke, sharp and indignant. He doesn’t suppress it. “Why not?” he shoots back. “It was a good time for you when we were both soaked in blood on an enemy ship, why not now? You wanna talk about my hand, Han?”

Han stops fiddling with the controls and turns his head to look at Luke over his shoulder. Luke meets his gaze calmly, but defiantly. In contrast Han has lost his fire; his eyes are wide and his mouth is parted as he searches for something on Luke’s face. Chewie begins to say something, but Luke’s gaze flies to him and he silences.

“You too, Chewie. You wanna talk? Try telling Han what you told Leia. I don’t know if this is some ploy behind my back or something, but I don’t appreciate being manipulated, no matter how good your intentions are.”

Chewie rumbles something sheepishly, but Han hasn’t taken his eyes off Luke this entire time. “Luke,” he says, sounding mystified. “Are you angry with me?”

“What do you think?” Luke returns, and finally stands. “You can have it your way, Han. I’ll be waiting in my room when you’re done here.”

He will admit to using the Force to steady his path so he appears effortlessly smooth despite the shaking of the floors as he exits the cockpit. He can feel both Han and Chewie staring after him until he is out of sight, and feels satisfied, and… huh. Not guilty at all. It’s a pleasant feeling, he decides, one he was stupid to have tried to give up. And it will be better, no matter the outcome, when Han comes to him.

Which he does, slowly, about ten minutes later when Chewie is easily capable of guiding the Falcon on his own. Luke, meditating with the Force, feels Han’s approach from across the ship and allows a smile to grace his face. His meditation has brought back his confidence, as has the feeling of Anakin Skywalker’s presence while his mind’s half in another plane. Anakin leaves him with a wave of reassurance when Han reaches the door- not to abandon him, but to give him a little privacy.

Luke eases himself out of his meditative trance and waits for Han to stop dithering. He could reach out and touch Han’s mind if he wished, but he doesn’t- that would be a vile invasion of privacy on Luke’s part for someone he cares about to this degree. That being said, after a minute passes with no further action from Han, Luke isn’t above reaching out with the Force and pulling the door open.

Han’s arm twitches; that’s the first thing Luke notices. Then, it’s Han’s thin-lipped smile and the tension in his frame. Luke doesn’t suppress his worry, yet he reminds himself that regardless of what happens here he will, at least, come out of it a healthier man.

“Han,” Luke almost chides. “Don’t be a stranger lurking in doorways. I may have to drag you in.”

Han’s cheeks go red even as he swaggers in, no doubt in an attempt to gain control of the conversation. “So, what, you’re not angry with me anymore?” Han asks, not 100% successful at keeping the bitterness from his voice.

Luke shuts the door with a nod. “I’ve been meditating,” he replies. “Don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll be angry again in a minute.”

Han looks as though he can’t decide whether or not to laugh. In the end he just swallows. “When did you lose your hand?”

Luke’s not sure if this is the least tactful he’s ever seen Han. Probably not. He allows the thought to distract him from his shame before it occurs to him that if he can’t keep ignoring the things he wants to go away, this is another thing that has to be acknowledged. With a grimace, he pulls his sleeve away to reveal the less-than-realistic prosthetic and the hatefully clean wound where it meets his real arm. When Luke manages to stop staring at it, he sees that Han has not managed to do the same- but Han hasn’t had to live with it for over a year, so he can’t hold it against him.

Han moves closer in a way that suggests he doesn’t want to but is doing it regardless, staring at Luke’s prosthetic with wide, pained eyes.

“When?” Han asks again in a hoarse voice.

“The day you were frozen,” Luke says softly. “The day I found out that Vader is my father.”

Han looks up at him. “You gonna tell me about that?” he asks, sitting down on the bed next to Luke. Luke restrains the temptation to reach out for the other man… but acknowledges it very consciously.

“If you want me to,” he says.

It’s the wrong thing to say. Something twists at Han’s expression- anger, Luke thinks. “Christ, kid- do it if you want to, don’t do it if you don’t want to. It’s not that goddamn hard.”

“What the fuck is your problem with me?” Luke snaps, finally. His tone has barely changed, but the atmosphere in the room most certainly has. He was right; the anger’s back now.

Han’s stunned into silence again, like a computer that’s experiencing frequent glitches when made to carry out new commands. It’s been happening all day, and Jedi or not Luke is still a person capable of getting pissed off. Whatever Han’s deal is, he’ll tell Luke or he’ll leave him the hell out of it.

“But-  _ my  _ problem?” Han blunders. Luke nearly rolls his eyes.

“You have been angry at me all day- all  _ month,  _ even. Maybe longer. First you say I don’t care about you, but then when I say I won’t tell you something if you don’t want to hear it-  _ because I care about your opinion-  _ you get pissy with me. Good God it’s gotten annoying. So whatever it is, whatever I’ve done, whatever. The fuck. Is wrong.” Luke glares. “Spit it out right the hell now.”

Han gapes at him. “… I’ve never heard you swear before,” he says.

“You’re about to hear it again,” Luke warns.

“ _ Jeez _ \- er, I guess now I can see how you and Leia are related, among other… look, kid, I don’t have a  _ problem  _ with you,” he hesitates.  

When Luke opens his mouth to protest, outraged (how dumb does Han think he is?!) Han raises a hand to stop him and presses on.

“I’ve always been fond of you, Luke, and nothing could ever really change that- apart from growing even fonder of you, I guess, which I  _ did…  _ but I loved-” Han jerks and then freezes, his face going red, refusing to look at Luke. Luke’s eyebrows raise of their own accord as he hears Han curse very quietly under his breath.

Luke looks at him curiously- hopefully, even though he’s kinda still angry at the guy. Han could be talking about anything, but the way he froze… “Go on,” he says with less bite than he’d had in his voice a minute ago.

“I…” Han grimaces. “I loved the kid I got separated from on Hoth, but the next time I see him he’s… different in ways that hurt to think about. He’s got ghosts in his eyes and a fake hand he never mentions and the happy, enthusiastic, pastel farm boy is now dressed in black high fashion and hasn’t displayed a single fucking emotion since we escaped from Tatooine! And- fuck, Luke- you get distant and you don’t talk to us anymore and I thought we were brothers,  _ more,  _ but I have to hear from  _ Leia _ that she’s your sister? That Darth Vader is your dad? That you’re going to fucking leave us and start a Jedi academy on some backwater planet like-  _ Jakku  _ or something?!”

“Woah, Han!” Luke puts his hands on Han’s shoulders. “Jakku? Jedi academy? Where’d you get that from?”

Han looks around like he thinks this is a trick question. “… Leia?”

Luke blinks. “Han,” he says slowly. “I’m not gonna fly off on a whim without telling you- that’s  _ your _ style, remember? Obviously I need to train other Force-sensitives, but that can wait until the Empire is dust and I’m not needed here anymore.”

Han’s fingers twitch.

“I spoke to my father today,” Luke continues, ignoring Han’s resulting expression. “He gave me some very helpful advice about how to… interpret the Jedi code, in particular the part about having emotions. He helped me see the difference between suppressing emotion and controlling emotion, and I think I can do better. So that problem shouldn’t be a problem for much longer. And as for… not telling you things.” Luke sighs.

“Kid, don’t- like I said, don’t tell me because I want you to. Tell me because  _ you  _ want to. And if you don’t, well, I guess I’ll have to deal with that.”

“I don’t think you get it, Han. Yeah, I’m different- I’m the only Jedi alive and I’m getting more powerful every day. That changes people. But I’m still  _ me.  _ Did you consider maybe I didn’t want to tell you some stuff because I know you hate that I’ve changed? Because I didn’t want to accept that I was so  _ alien _ from what I used to be that only I could see myself behind my experiences?”

Han frowns. “Now hang on-”

Luke rushes on, needing to say his part lest he chicken out. “Maybe I didn’t want to tell you about my hand because I thought you’d think of me as- lesser. Maybe I didn’t want to tell you about my dad because everything was so big and so fast that I needed you by my side, seeing  _ me,  _ not Darth Vader’s son. And maybe…” Luke swallows, and tries to still his shaking hand. “Maybe I didn’t want to tell you that Leia’s my sister because you’ve commented more than once about me, well, pining, and I thought that if you knew it wasn’t Leia then you’d know exactly who else it would have to be.”

Luke’s voice wavers on the last part, but he’s a little proud of himself otherwise. And a little terrified- honestly, he could easily destroy another Death Star and be less nervous about it. Han, for his part, is still computing what Luke has said.

“Luke… you don’t mean…”

Rather than disgust or pity, the look on Han’s face is-  _ relieved. _

“Han?”

Han reaches for him, entwines his hand in Luke’s soft cloak, and pulls him in. Luke would never have thought Han might be gentle with him, his reputation as it is, but the touch of Han’s lips is feather light and Luke almost laughs even as his eyes flutter closed. He automatically feels safer with Han’s hand on him, enveloped in his chestnut cologne. 

“Don’t tell me you’re shy,” Luke teases, peeking up at Han- Han who has such an intense look of yearning on his face that it’s startling.

“You have no idea,” Han murmurs. “No idea how much I’ve wanted this, how long-!”

Luke tugs him close and kisses him harder, bolder, and yes, he can see where he’s changed- he wouldn’t have dared to do this when he was younger- but he really doesn’t mind, and judging from the way Han’s hands move to clutch him at the waist, Han doesn’t either.

He runs his tongue over Han’s slightly chapped lips, and Han breathes a little harder, sending a thrill down Luke’s spine. Grinning, he presses forward, worrying Han’s lower lip between his teeth until it swells and Han’s practically moaning into his mouth. He tastes of alcohol and blood and a dash of cinnamon. Luke wants more, but he pulls pack to get a look at Han. 

Practically panting, Han’s eyes are glazed over and there’s a telling bulge in his lap. Luke himself isn’t immune to it, but he’s more interested in drinking in Han’s blissed state, from his blushing cheeks to his possessive hands tugging at Luke’s waist.

“You know, when I fantasised about kissing you- and I do, frequently- I thought  _ you’d  _ be the one romancing  _ me _ .”

Han’s breath catches at Luke’s admission, but he’s done with buffering at everything Luke says, thank the Force, and nods a little dizzily. “I thought so too.”

Luke grins again, giving in to Han’s clutching hands and diving forward for more. He’s more insistent this time, nipping at Han’s lip again before licking his way into his mouth. Han takes his cue eagerly and reciprocates the gesture, but Luke’s not quite ready to give up control just yet (though at any other time he is absolutely not averse to letting Han do whatever he wants to him. Not at all). Luke moves a hand around Han, feeling the rumpled clothing and laboured breathing underneath- barely believing that he’s  _ touching Han right now-  _ and moves it down to clutch at Han’s ass. 

Han starts at the sudden movement but arches his back, pulling away only to bury his head in the crook of Luke’s neck. “God,” he mutters, his breath hot against Luke’s skin. “I love it when you take what you want.”

“It’s different,” Luke says cautiously. 

“It’s  _ good.” _

Luke lets out a relieved breath which turns into a laugh somewhere along the way. He feels so…  _ light.  _ He can’t imagine why the Jedi would ever prohibit something like this- the Force is practically singing within him, and he’s never felt more at peace in his entire life. 

“Though you’d better believe that once I get my ass in gear- well, I’ll be getting your ass in gear too, if you catch my meaning.” Han lifts his head from Luke’s shoulders purely so he can waggle his eyebrows at Luke and make his face heat up very embarrassingly. 

Luke’s hands find their way to Han’s arms, while Han’s own hands seem insistent on not letting go of him. He’s pretty okay with that. “See Han,” Luke says, smoothing his fingers over Han’s biceps. “Change isn’t that bad.” 

Han shifts uncomfortably. “Yeah, I get that. But in my defence… for a good long while I thought change meant you not wanting me, you leaving me, and I couldn’t stand that. Still can’t stand that. So yeah, I wanted things to go back to the way they were on Hoth, when you were bright like the suns you left behind on Tatooine and equally unreserved- and when I thought I still had a chance with you-”

“Hang on,” Luke cuts in. “You wanted me- like  _ that-  _ on Hoth?”

“Oh yeah.” Han draws the words out longsufferingly. “I think I’ve loved you since the first Death Star.”

“But I thought you wanted Leia?”

“I was… conflicted.” Han smiles sheepishly. “Guess I picked the wrong twin.” 

“Leia’s not wrong,” Luke chides, protective of his twin even now. “She’s the better of us by far- but maybe she’s wrong for  _ you…  _ if I’m being selfish,” Luke amends.

Han looks somewhat indignant at Luke’s dismissal. “Leia is… a controlled explosion,” he says. “Deadly, fierce, hot, but precise and sharp, and she knows when and when not to detonate.  _ You…  _ well, you’re like the sun, aren’t you?”  __

“You said that already,” Luke says, attempting to hide his blush.

“I mean it. You’re deadly too, but you’re more subtle about it. I mean, I never heard you swear before today. And you’re… hot, too, holy hell, and you’re bubbly and you outshine everyone you meet, every time…” Han’s gaze grows distant, and Luke gets the impression he’s having an epiphany. He waits it out, gazing adoringly at the man he can now call his. “... and you set, sometimes, and I get cold when I can’t see or feel you there. But you always rise again. Always.” 

Luke’s in love with this man. 

His eyes might be a little wet, but who can blame him? He smiles the smile of a lovestruck teen, though he’s definitely matured since he was fumbling about with Biggs on Tatooine.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you earlier,” he says, running slightly-shaking fingers up Han’s arms to cup his face. 

“No need. Sorry I’ve been snapping at you for ages. You didn’t deserve-”

Luke shakes his head, disagreeing. “No, I needed that. I needed the reminder, and I needed a reason for Anakin to finally get down here and pay me a visit.” He smiles. “And Leia…” he trails off. 

“Leia?” 

Slowly, Luke pieces it together. Leia’s knowing looks. The fact that she’s put them on mission together unfailingly for the past how many months. Her almost disappointment when Luke got his act together completely independent of Han- or her. Her pushing Luke towards Han, insistent that they ride together, that they talk.

That Chewie told her about Luke’s whereabouts but not Han. 

“Chewie and Leia were in cahoots,” Luke says, almost monotone. Han fixes him with a ‘have-you-gone-slightly-mad’ look. Luke elaborates. “Chewie and Leia have been trying to get us together this whole time. Chewie knew where I was when you were looking for me-”

Han’s expression turns to mild outrage. “That oversized ball of fur-- I was worried sick about you! I didn’t know where you’d gone!” 

“I bet they loved that,” Luke said drily. “All the better for dramatic love confessions.” 

Han shakes his head disbelievingly. “Damn that princess. I’m gonna get her good…” 

Luke would rather Han get  _ him  _ good- then he flushes red at the thought and its parallel thoughts. Han doesn’t miss the change and redirects his attention. 

“What’s got you all bothered?” 

“I just… never mind. I don’t want to know.” 

It’s not a good enough answer for Han, who moves his hand to grasp Luke’s chin, forcing him to look up at Han. It’s as hot as it’s always been in his fantasies. Oh boy. 

_ “I  _ wanna know,” Han impresses. 

Luke squirms. “It’s… I was wondering if you and Leia ever…” he doesn’t want to kill the mood, but it’s hard to reconcile ‘Leia’ and ‘sister’ and ‘sex’ in the weird triangle in his head that’s always existed out of sight, and Luke feels guilty for it.

But Han’s shaking his head. “No, kid. Never.” 

Luke’s… surprised. “What, really?” 

Han huffs out a laugh. “It’s part of why we broke up, actually.” 

Luke narrows his eyes. “What, because she wouldn’t fuck you?” 

Han takes the insult in stride and rolls his eyes. “No, because whenever I thought about having sex with someone, it was always  _ you,  _ and I didn’t fancy the idea of screaming  _ your  _ name when-”

“Okay, okay! I get it!” Luke yells, blushing awfully red and turning away as Han laughs at him. The hand tightens on his jaw, but when it coaxes him back it’s gentle. Loving. Luke can barely stand it. 

“It made me realise that I couldn’t live the way I was, ignoring my feelings for you while you were so close. Leia was really good about it- slapped me, but at the time I really deserved it- and well, now we’re here. I wouldn’t have it any other way.” 

“Me neither,” Luke agrees, leaning in to give Han another chaste kiss. 

Han kisses him back eagerly, but places a hand on Luke’s chest- less to stop Luke and more to stop himself. He sighs reluctantly when he pulls away. “We should probably check on Chewie, and the mission parameters,” he apologises. 

Luke finds only that he appreciates Han valuing the rebellion as much as he does. He offers his hand in an ‘after you’ motion, and Han stands and pulls him up with him. He swaggers out of the room, expecting Luke to follow, and Luke won’t disappoint him- not again. 

They’ve lapsed into a comfortable silence when an awareness appears in the periphery of his mind through the Force. His sharp intake of breath causes Han to turn and regard him, but Luke quells his worry with a wry and knowing, “Leia.”

Han scoffs and resumes his path, muttering something about ‘interfering royal highnesses’ and whatnot. Luke focuses on Leia instead. 

_ “I sense a change in you,”  _ Leia says to him. It’s the farthest apart that they’ve ever tried to communicate, but Luke shouldn’t be surprised. They’re Anakin’s kids, and Leia’s someone to be reckoned with even without being Force-sensitive. 

_ “You and Chewie should congratulate yourselves,”  _ Luke returns, and he feels Leia’s mirth in his mind. 

_ “Good. In that case you won’t be surprised when I tell you that there is no mission. I’ve already given Chewie soundproof earmuffs, so you can wait until nightfall to tell Han, and then- enjoy your extra time alone.” _

_ “Leia!”  _

_ “Don’t tell me you’re going to refuse such a generous opportunity?”  _ Leia says, mock offended. Luke shakes his head, and even though she can’t see it, he gets the feeling she knows. 

_ “I’ll see you soon,”  _ Luke replies, torn between being scandalised and delighted. Her goodbye is a last loving pat on the cheek through the Force, a showing-off of her growing abilities. They’ll train together when Luke gets back, but until then...

He’d lagged behind Han during his conversation, but though he’s slightly drained, the exchange has renewed his energy and he bounds after Han. Han turns, offering him a warm, fond smile when he catches up, and takes his hand on a whim. 

The bright, peaceful future Luke had been hoping for for years starts, in Luke’s mind, with that entwining of hands.

Luke is happy. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Feel free to comment and/or find me on tumblr @merrinpippy! I hope everyone has a Happy New Year!


End file.
